Chapter 66: A Place of Their Own for Friends

66. Chapter 66: A Place of Their Own for Friends

"If you're willing, come train over here. It's just me here anyway, though at noon for the sparring we'll still go to the freight yard," Zhao Jin said with a smile.

"Great! The freight yard's lively, but for martial practice you want peace and quiet!" Chen Sheng's eyes lit up at once.

When young men around the same age get together, they often can't settle their minds, wasting a lot of time on jokes and idle chatter. Zhao Jin had worried about this too, but he never expected that once Chen Sheng started practicing with the saber, his whole demeanor would turn calm and focused. In the courtyard, all you could hear was the whistle of thrusting spears and chopping blades — an atmosphere that actually pushed each of them to improve.

At noon they parted ways. Zhao Jin didn't rush back; he first went to the shop to make sure his things were safely hidden. By now they were no longer just stuffed in a corner of the counter — he had hollowed out a space beneath several floor bricks and placed the records inside a chest there. Zhao Jin knew how important these memories and ideas were, and he reviewed them every morning and evening.

After lunch they went to the freight yard, where everyone had a satisfying bout. This time Wang Zhaojing took first place. His swordsmanship and Chen Sheng's saber technique shared many similarities, with plenty of charging and thrusting movements. When he sparred with Zhao Jin, if Zhao Jin left an opening and let him charge in, it often meant trouble.

After the matches, everyone split the snacks and then headed home. Chen Sheng, carrying his saber, walked the same way as Zhao Jin. As Zhao Jin left the freight yard, he kept glancing around. Mu Shulan hadn't shown up today. After what happened yesterday, her family probably wouldn't let her out of the house anymore.

Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng hadn't gone far when they heard footsteps behind them. They turned to look and saw Wang Zhaojing catching up. Wang Zhaojing smiled at Chen Sheng, then leaned in close to Zhao Jin and said quietly, "Brother Zhao, it's not that I was unwilling to help. If my father stepped in, the matter would have blown up. Yesterday's incident hadn't reached that point yet. I hope you understand."

The words caught Zhao Jin off guard for a moment before he realized what they meant. If Wang Zhaojing's father had stepped in about yesterday's incident, it would certainly have been resolved more thoroughly. But Wang Zhaojing had never once mentioned that option from start to finish. Zhao Jin hadn't minded at all — he never expected the other party to bring it up first.

"Brother Wang, you're overthinking it. The matter's already settled. If your esteemed father had stepped in, I'm afraid even the prefect would've been unable to sit still — that would've blown things out of proportion. There was no need for that," Zhao Jin said with a smile.

Hearing Zhao Jin say this, Wang Zhaojing breathed a sigh of relief. He valued his friendship with Zhao Jin greatly and had been afraid of a misunderstanding between them.

With things made clear, Wang Zhaojing was about to take his leave. Seeing Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng heading in the same direction, he casually asked, "Where are you two off to?"

Thinking back on the candid conversation they'd just had, and how sincere Wang Zhaojing had been, Zhao Jin smiled and said, "My second uncle's place is quiet. The two of us train there. Brother Wang, come along!"

Wang Zhaojing paused for a moment, then smiled and agreed. To him, this was a sign that their relationship was growing closer.

The next day, Sun Dalei joined in. The day after that, Dong Bingfeng and Shi Manqiang joined too. By the time March arrived, everyone from Zhao Jin's little circle at the freight yard had visited this courtyard house. Those few with money and free time were there training every single day.

They all had their own masters, but they'd more or less finished learning the forms they were supposed to learn. What remained was daily hard practice, and Zhao Jin's second uncle's courtyard house perfectly suited their needs — martial training by day, and a place to rest during idle moments.

The Chen, Wang, and Sun families all sent people over to take a look, then dispatched workers to do a rough renovation of the courtyard and house. The ground was leveled smoother. Shi Manqiang specially made training equipment for the courtyard. The Sun family bought weapon racks and arms. The Wang family sent people to tidy up the house, furnishing it completely so they could eat and sleep there.

The parents of these young men were far more supportive of them gathering here than at the freight yard, and Zhao Jin and the others also needed a more private space.

Gradually, all twenty-some people who'd always hung around the freight yard came by. Ji Xiang and Liu Yong went without saying. Even those who couldn't train here regularly found it a pleasure to show their faces now and then, have some tea, and chat. Even Chen Hong, who'd more or less stopped showing up with Chen Sheng, was willing to come.

Some of the elders at home simply said, if you don't want to come back at noon, the family can just arrange to have meals sent over.

But Zhao Jin said that this place, after all, wasn't anyone's home. Training and gathering was one thing, but they should still go home for meals and spend more time with their families. When his friends passed these words back to their households, the elders thought even more highly of Zhao Jin, considering him a boy who knew his limits and had promise.

The truth was, Zhao Jin needed to limit how long his friends spent here — he had to have gaps of time to add to, cut from, and review those records.

Those days passed very pleasantly. Everyone felt more at ease here than at the freight yard. If Zhao Jin hadn't insisted on going to the freight yard for sparring, they all felt they could've just made a sparring ground right here. This area was also a commercial district, desolate and quiet — during the day you'd hardly see anyone on the streets. Sparring out on the street wouldn't have drawn any disturbance at all.

The only thing that caught Zhao Jin by surprise was Mu Shulan. Ever since she'd gone home that time, she hadn't appeared for over half a month. As for news about the Cloud Mountain Firm, he heard it often enough — things like the Cloud Mountain Firm had dismissed those two clerks who'd followed them, and then the clerks' bodies were found in a ruined temple outside the city.

Hearing this news, Zhao Jin felt a chill in his heart. He knew this was retaliation from Mu Shulan's elders, but he hadn't expected it to be so ruthless — murder and arson, no less.

Zhao Jin also noticed something else: his own parents wanted absolutely nothing to do with Mu Shulan's elders. The girl was the girl; they simply treated Mu Shulan's family as if they didn't exist. Thinking back on those few dealings they'd had before, even He Cuihua was unwilling to exchange more than a few words with Mr. Mu, only speaking up when she truly couldn't stand by and watch any longer.

Could they be people from some major underworld sect? Or maybe secret agents and runners of the Eastern Depot or the Embroidered Uniform Guard? The more he was kept from knowing, the more curious Zhao Jin became. Several times during this period he'd tried to ask around, only to be scolded each time, which made him even more curious.

Zhao Jin found a chance to ask his training companions about it. To his surprise, none of them knew of this Mr. Mu. One even asked in return, "Isn't that your neighbor, Brother Zhao?" Zhao Jin thought about it — aside from himself, no one else had any opportunity to deal with Mu Shulan's family. The little girl was usually with him all day, and whenever outsiders asked, he'd just say she was a neighbor, so everyone naturally assumed that was the case.

And the reason he paid attention to Mr. Mu was that he paid attention to many things and cared about details. Everyone else had their own lives — how would they ever notice this?

Zhao Jin soon refocused his attention on martial training. Training together had one advantage: it made it easy to spot your own shortcomings. Zhao Jin felt his spear technique still wasn't concise enough. If he could master just the thrust alone — make it as fast as possible, as direct as possible — its killing power would likely be even greater.

This insight came from a few words Wang Zhaojing had spoken during a break in idle conversation: "My master said that in the past, sword techniques were flashy and complicated, with over a hundred different starting postures alone — you couldn't even practice them all. But after two hundred years of being passed down, only six starting postures remain, and only three actions for the first strike. There's no other reason for it: when killing and wounding, you seek simplicity and effectiveness, not beauty. So whatever wasn't practical was discarded by people."

Wang Zhaojing's master was a renowned teacher hired from the capital, a man of the Imperial Guard with specialized skill in sword techniques. The Wang family had sincerely recruited him, paid him well, and Wang Zhaojing had both talent and a willingness to train hard, so the master was willing to teach real skill. He also seemed to hope Wang Zhaojing would carry on and spread the art, so these words weren't empty posturing — they held true meaning.

After the first lunar month this year, Wang Zhaojing's master had traveled north, back to his hometown, saying there was nothing more he could teach and that he hoped Wang Zhaojing would continue training hard on his own.

After hearing this, Zhao Jin made a point of recording it in his notebook. Though Wang Zhaojing used a longsword, thrusting made up a large proportion of his moves. There was much the spear could borrow from it. The thrust was the most fundamental and most lethal move of any long weapon. Even for a halberd, which combined chopping, slashing, and hooking, the primary action was still the thrust.

Zhao Jin felt that his second uncle wouldn't hold anything back from him — he'd surely taught him everything he knew, and he himself should have learned it all. But he couldn't be satisfied with simple repetition. He had to draw lessons, reflect, and strive for improvement and breakthroughs.

Precisely because he had such thoughts, Zhao Jin trained extra every day and went home later than usual.